


Before the Fall

by angeleledhwen (kallistei), eledhwen (kallistei)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-28
Updated: 2002-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistei/pseuds/angeleledhwen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistei/pseuds/eledhwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, in a silver city, two angels met...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jemisard for letting me steal her name for the angelic Crowley and to Ren and Janie for betaing

_Part 1: A Meeting_

Once, an eternal time ago, the only beings in Creation were God and his angels. Then, the Fall and the Earth were merely distant sparks in the Creator’s mind; threads yet to be woven into the Ineffable Plan. Then, Lucifer was still God’s lieutenant and his dearest son, firstborn and best- loved. Then, all of angel stock walked the Silver City and lived, loved and learnt in the name of their Lord, the same Lord of them all.

One morning1, one of these angels wandered through the shimmering streets. If any creatures other than angels had been present to observe, they would have found it almost impossible to distinguish him from the others that passed on the crowded streets. They all appeared almost the same – hair in various shades of white-blonde, ice blue eyes, wings and robes so pure it was impossible to tell their colour, and disturbing-beautiful, androgynous bodies2. 

The wandering angel was rudely shocked out of his musings on the greater glory of his Creator when he was interrupted by another body making contact with him. This was an almost unheard of occurrence – then, the angels still (with the exception of Lucifer) shared a sort of hive-mind, a group awareness that ensured perfect harmony. The first angel looked accusingly down at the one who had interrupted his thoughts. If their exchange had been translated into speech, it would have gone

Angel 1: What did you have to go and do that for?

Angel 2: Very sorry, sir. Wasn’t looking where I was going. Er, must dash.

Angel 1: Hmm. Don’t I know you?

Angel 1 (thinks): Youngish, looks a lot like everyone else. What’s the name?

It was perhaps unsurprising that the angel had trouble with names. Both individuality and naming were new ideas, barely more than a few star-cycles old, and most angelic circles were unsure about it all. Wouldn’t it disrupt harmony? While only the unique (and somewhat spoilt) Lucifer would actually dare question, the senior angels, unaware of the individualistic nature of their musings, did wonder.

While Angel 1 pondered, Angel 2 (in general a cautious fan of the whole individualism gig) interpreted a part of the silence correctly and said, “I’m Calaei.”

“Oh.” A long pause. “Aziraphale.”

“Oh.”

And that was the first meeting.

* * *

 

_Part 2: A Discovery_

The stars were born, turned and burned themselves out, and Aziraphale and Calaei kept meeting and then wandering off. Identities became accepted, and eventually they became friends, almost in spite of themselves. Those meetings just _reeked_ of Ineffability. As did the joint projects they were given. Pairing a Principality with an ordinary angel was distinctly unusual, but what was commanded would happen. And did.

Star-cycles came and went and something greater than friendship, than partnership, was born. It still didn’t have a name, but it was there nevertheless.

Another morning, much like the one they had met, Calaei came upon his friend standing at the edge of the Silver City looking down3 at the stars. Calaei paused a moment to appreciate the sight of the angel, wings swept around him shrouding him from neck to toes, his eyes distant and thoughtful, and his shoulder-brushing hair untouched, like the feathers of his wings, by the cosmic wind that should have buffeted them.

“Calaei.” Aziraphale said, without turning4. “What’s wrong?”

“Lucifer had another of his argu…discussions.” The younger angel replied, and if he had tear ducts he would have been crying.

Aziraphale didn’t have to ask who Lucifer had been ‘discussing’ with. Instead he simply reached out and folded arms and wings around his something-more-than-friend. Resting his chin on the shorter angel’s shoulder, his eyes remained distant, no longer contemplating the stars but their Creator. Why was He letting this happen? Couldn’t he see that it was tearing His angels…his Calaei…apart?

Eventually Calaei’s hands came up, pushed gently against his friend’s chest. Aziraphale let him go, and looked concernedly down at him.

“I’m OK. Really.” Calaei said, a tad defensively.

“I know.”

And then somehow their arms were wrapped around each other again, and something new, lips touched lips and mouths parted and they were creating something of their own. After a few seconds they drew back and looked at each other in bewilderment, then returned to this discovery of theirs.

Much, much later, after the Fall and the Forgetting, Adam would greet his Eve and brush his mouth over hers, and name it a kiss, but long before, when two angels comforted each other, that was the first kiss.

* * *

_Part 3: Fall and Forgetting_

It was over. Lucifer and his followers had been thrown out. Had Fallen, down through eternity, to the Hell that would be their domain. Aziraphale stood in the place he had first kissed Calaei and remembered.

Another argument, this one greater than all that had gone before. Lucifer – poor, deluded, ill-fated angel – had proclaimed himself his Father’s enemy, declaring war. And rank upon winged rank of angels drew away from God’s Host to join him. First his closest aides, his generals, then those who would rule sections of Hell in his name, and finally the ordinary, the demons of everyday. And as they stood opposite the one who had been their Lord, they changed. Angels no longer, their eyes were bestial, although no beasts had been created yet. Their robes darkened, black as the chaos outside the City, without even the stars to brighten them. They changed, and all save the Archangel recoiled in horror.

Then some of the angels drew apart from both sides, for they would not – could not – choose. Choose between a God who would create a Devil, and the Devil who had been the favoured son of their God? It was impossible. And Calaei was among these angels.

But Aziraphale stood with the Army of God and a heavenly sword flamed bright in his grasp, yet he could not persuade Calaei to stand with him, with God. Then was fought the War for Heaven, the first war. The war that could have only one outcome, for the Plan would allow no other. Angels died then, first but not last, and the new-made demons too, more of the latter than the former. When, finally, Satan was defeated, Michael hurled him through the Shining Gates, and his followers Fell with him.

Once the War was over, most of the undecided angels returned to the Host, and were allowed to take up their old responsibilities. But from time to time, one would walk out through the gates, changing as they went, and never return again. Calaei too had rejoined the angels, but now he was changed. He questioned now, he wondered as Lucifer had done, no matter how Aziraphale tried to tell him that could only lead to misery. He could not be given the answers to the questions he asked.

Every day he had more questions, as the world began to be formed, sung into life by the angels at God’s behest. When it was done, when Adam and Eve were made, curious Calaei persuaded Aziraphale to go down with him, to see these newest of God’s children. There, the Namer paused in his duty, looked at them, and said not ‘angels’, for he had seen angels before, but ‘Love’. Then he returned to his litany. ‘Apple. Snake. Sword.’ The angels – who now had a name for their feelings – returned to the Silver City. But even the name, even Calaei’s love for Aziraphale, his love for his God, couldn’t keep him from his questioning.

Some time after their trip to Eden, the Lord summoned Aziraphale, told him he was to take up his sword once more and guard the Eastern Gate of Eden against the minions of Satan. Calaei could not go – he was a weakness. He would be tolerated, but not indulged.

But when Aziraphale returned to tell him the news, Calaei was gone. Something had finally forced him to make his decision, and he had gone to join the ranks of the Fallen, and Aziraphale would not join him. He too had made his choice, but he could not forget.

Thus he came to be here, watching the stars below, and knowing that soon he would have to take up his new job. And perhaps he would see Calaei, his Calaei, no matter what his name was, what he was, now, and he would not know what to do…

Some time later, he looked up in bewilderment. What was he doing here? He had no time to waste it in aimless thinking. Unfurling his wings, he flew towards the Gates to Earth, and if anyone had mentioned the name ‘Calaei’, he would not have recognised it.

1 - Morning, for lack of a better word. There were no mornings, or evenings, or indeed days, back then.

2 \- Androgynous, of course, because then there were no men and women. You get the picture.

3 \- or up, if you prefer

4 - this would of course have been a much more impressive trick without the hive mind, but you can’t have everything…


End file.
